Conversations On Charr
Catechism is out on the Training Grounds of Charr, because Charr is a suitably desolate place. She would prefer not to have a huge audience, and Decepticons go out of their way to avoid shifts on Charr. Catechism looks back nervously at the base, as if expecting someone. Someone who is smarter than she is, to be exact. Someone who she has asked to pose her some fiendish tactical problems. Catechism is a glutton for pain. Backfire is following Catechism as the dopey soldier that he is. Strutting in a march, arms pumping in rhythm with his legs the Seeker comes to a halt off to the side. "Mistress Catechism, Backfire reporting as requested. Awaiting your command!" He slaps a clumsy salute up to his head, smiling at her. Tetrajet flies from the direction of base because he was asked to be, though he's not really sure why. Something about fiends and problems? Anyway, he transforms and touches down, glancing towards the conehead. "Inquisitor? You asked for me?" Sunder is here. Chaar may be desolate, but sometimes it makes for an interesting site for training. And perhaps a Hunt--with automated Hunted Drones, of course. A generic Seeker milling aimlessly in the background is miscolored as Artifice by some hapless Korean animator. Thus Artifice finds himself on the burning rock that is Charr, and eventually makes his way toward the nearest Cybertronians he sees. "Hey hey," he says, nearing Backfire and Catechism, "What's up? Whas tha skinny? Little training?" He strikes a kung fu pose. "I'll school y'all. Ha! Ya!" With this he chuckles and shakes his head. "Nah. Kidding. But seriously, I know fighting moves." Tetrajet flew to Charr because, well it seemed the thing to do. He was tired of laying around his quarters waiting for his repairs to take hold and the Sharks Rib is a bad place to hang out when one is bored and grounded.. much enerhol to be consumed there, yes. He had heard of Charr but had not been there so he kind of tagged along to see what this space rock is all about. He closes in and just circles but says nothing. For the record, Backfire isn't the smarter person Catechism is expecting. However, Backfire might be useful if an object demonstration is required. That is what Catechism keeps telling herself. She smiles benevolently at Backfire and greets him with a slightly incline of her head and, "At ease." Then, when Fleet arrives, her optics alight, and she explains, "Ah, yes!" Her favourite fiend. "Fleet. Though it doesn't suit your temperment, I seem to recall that you have some skill in command and-" there's a Sunder over there, some random Seeker she's never seen (and Seekers all look the same, anyway), and another Seeker. The Breezy one. Guess he made it out alive. What happened to Charr being desolate? Catechism despairs for a moment. Then, she shakes her head and sallies on, announcing, "I have asked Fleet here to pose me some tactical problems. So. Yes. Training. Just a bit thinkier than usual." Backfire drops the salute, balling up the fist and shaking it vigorously in the air. "Training Day!!" Dropping the arm to his side, the Seeker relaxes a bit before looking to Fleet. "Wait, you mean the dancer? Does the Mistress require us to learn ... aerial dancing?" Artifice nods. This makes it sound to him like not much is going to be asked of him physically. He is more than OK with that. "Thinky is good," he smiles, "the thinkier the better." He puts his hands on his hips. "I'm Artifice, by the way. Nice to meet you. Yes, yes. Backfire I know... and you're Fleet?" At the mention of dancing, he frowns. "Oh I'm no good at that. Two left feet." Tetrajet decends, transforms and lands near where everyone seems to be. "Thinkier training is fine with me." the Seeker rasps as he approaches the rest. Fleet frowns at Backfire's mention of dancing, then shakes his head at Artifice. "You shouldn't be using your feet much at all in Aerial dance. You start with four or more Seekers and perform a series of maneuvers. If you make a mistake, someone fires at you. If you get hit, that counts as another mistake. If you mess up the next maneuver while dodging, that counts as another mistake. This goes on until there are only three left. It used to be in some parts of Cybertron, this was how Seeker trios were chosen. Well, back in the days when we flew in trios." He shrugs, then looks at Catechism, shaking his head. "Fiendish tactical problem? I'm not sure about the fiendish part, but if you'll give me a moment..." he turns and studies the landscape. Sunder strokes his beard. Seeker training. "Mind if I participate?" he offers, "Or if you prefer, I can merely observe." Catechism wonders how it is that she said 'tactical problems' and Backfire heard 'aerial dancing'. She sees that this Artifice fellow is quick to catch onto names, but she doesn't tender her own. Fleet has refered to her as Inquisitor, and the title will have to suffice. She allows Fleet to explain about aerial dance - it's /his/ hobby. His stupid wussy hobby that he drags her along to sometimes. She allows, "A moment, then." She simply shrugs to the Sweep. It isn't the only non-Seeker here, truth be told. Windshear listens to Fleet then replies, "Trines -- they were Trines. It was the goal of many young Seekers such as myself to be part of a Trine, but... the war." He stops and smirks, "I like this 'aerial dancing' idea, Fleet. Sounds like a challenge." "That... sounds like a nightmare," Artifice laughs, "You know, I think I should be the one who shoots people. That's a skill I need to...exhibit." He says this in a half whisper to Fleet, a serious look on his face. Backfire waves his arms around frantically, "How does dancing in the air sound challenging?" The Seeker lifts up into the air, giving Fleet a glare. He then proceeds to start whirling around in aerial manuevers, "See, this not soo hard!" Catechism looks a bit confused an starts to say, "Trines? What's tha..." She pauses to think for a moment, and then she notes cheerily, "Oh, you mean /vics/. We called them vics in my part of Cybertron." Vic short for 'victory', naturally. Then, she suggests to Backfire mildly, "Now do that in sync with three other people who will shoot you if you make one false move." Windshear starts laughing as he watches Backfire. He loves stunt flying and he's seeing FAIL about to happen and it looks like it will be a specatular looking one at that. He glances away for a moment and looks at Catechism. "Vics, I have not heard that term. Seems so far we all know it by different terms." He finds it interesting that a trio of Seekers could be known by different terms. He goes back watching Backfire and listening to any further conversation. Flying around like the idiot he is, Backfire starts laughing hysterically. "Mwuahahahahaha! This is fun, and we haven't even started shooting eachother yet!!" Caught up in the glee, he doesn't realize just how close he's flying towards the ground. "Oh snap." *BWASH* Colliding off the ground, Backfire surprisingly bounces off of it and soars over towards the Hot Springs. "AAAHHHH! My follies serve the ... EMPIRE!!!" Fleet gives a casual shrug of his left shoulder and wing. "It's my understanding that different terms were common in different sections of Cybertron, once upon time." He looks up towards Backfire, but though his expression is cool, doesn't seem particularly bothered. He even manages to hide the smile as Backfire crashes. He tilts his head. "A Decepticon shuttle is radioing for SOS. It is near a gravity well. The Autobots are trying to capture it. If you stop to fight them, it will crash. What do you do?" Backfire says, "Detoooooonate the shuttllllleeeeee..." Backfire yells right before crashing." Catechism rubs her temples. Was she ever that enthusiastic? Was she ever that uncoordinated? Was she ever that...? No. Catechism's not even going there. She narrows her optics and asks, as Fleet poses his question, "Is this Decepticon shuttle full of monsters? Because if it is, I am all for just letting the Autobots bust in there and get eaten by monsters. I'm just saying." Sunder strokes his beard some more. He listens as the others try to answer the question. Ahhh, gravity wells. The Hazards of interstellar travel. "I would recover the shuttle," Artifice says matter of factly. Fleet rubs his chin. "Well, you don't know what their alternate modes are, Catechism. Manifest shows they're a supply vessel." Catechism's hands clench into fists as Fleet says they don't know if the ships is full of monsters. She groans, "Fleeeet, ships radioing a SOS are always full of monsters! Or tentacles. Or ghosts. Or Quintessons. Or crazy AIs. And I /know/ I'm forgetting something here. Blast. If I let the Autobots in first to see if they get eaten by monsters, and the crew is just normal, I could be ruining Imperial property, but if they are monsters, and my team goes in first, and we all get eaten..." She whirls and points a finger at Artifice, "Recover it? Why?" Artifice looks taken aback. "Uh..." he stammers, pretending to think, "Maybe Galvatron's on it." Windshear stops laughing finally and listens to Catechisms comment. With a frown he runs through recent audio files and picks up the question, "Wait till the Autobots board the shuttle then destroy or force the shuttle into the gravity well." he says then looks at Artifice, "If he was on it hed be out firing at the Autobots Id think." leet bounces up on the front portions of his feet once, then shrugs. He looks around at the answers the others are offering, smiles faintly, then watches Catechism again, waiting for HER answer. Catechism thinks Artifice doesn't seem so sure of himself when he's put on the spot to explain himself. She's also not sure about just letting the Autobots board the shuttle and then forcing it down into the gravity well, the way Windshear wants. What if the crew are just normal Decepticons? Despite being obvious screw-ups to get in such a situation, the Empire could still use them. Catechism squints some more and points out, "The Autobots are stealing /our/ shuttle? Sure the com frequencies haven't been swapped, and really, we're stealing an Autobot shuttle?" Probably not, no. She sighs. "Okay. I wait until the Autobots dock with the shuttle to board it. Then, I board the Autobots' shuttle and capture it while the Autobots are in our broken shuttle. Hopefully, the Autobots get eaten by monsters. If not I just tell the not-monster Decepticons on the broken shuttle to bail, and we pick them up in orbit with our shiny, new, non-broken, stolen Autobot shuttle. The Autobots get stuck in the broken shuttle and all plummet to their DOOM." Fleet chuckles. "Good answer!" Fleet exclaims. Then he grins. "Really, there was no 'right' answer." He gestures towards Windshear. "I'd have taken his answer, too. Artifice's had too much risk with too little associated reward, though." Fleet is big on low risk operations - he *is* a guy who's been known to raid Tasmania because really. Who cares about Tasmania? Artifice affects a big self-satisfied nod. "I was giving an example of a /bad/ answer." This seems plausible enough to him. "Always take the biggest risk, no matter what the reward." He looks at the others with a tilt of his head, as if he has just said something very wise indeed and he is waiting for it to sink in. Windshear nods at Fleet acknowleding his comment and considers Catechisms answer. It was a good one. He smirks as he looks at Artifice after he makes his comment. Catechism stares at Artifice out of the corner of her optics. She admits, "Windshear's solution certainly was simpler... and since when has a derelict ship NOT been full of something horrible, anyway? I'm not sure why we bother, anymore..." She shakes her head, and she demands, "Another! I want my thinky circuits to hurt! ...hurt more." "Well, some people seem to think this way," Fleet answers Artifice. He ponders. "All right. So there is an item you need to retrieve for Galvatron. Call it the Cosmic Stratrafonic Engine. You know it's kept in one of two locations. Say... Monacus and Pz-Zazz. You've tracked down the two people who know where it is, one from each location, but there's a problem: one is known to only lie, and one is known to only tell the truth. The problem is, you don't know which one is which. What's more, they've both swallowed poison, so they'll only live long enough for you to ask one of them one question. How do you deal with it?" Warsong makes his way onto the training grounds with a confident strut, his ruby-red optics peering about with great interest in these somewhat alien surroundings. It has been quite some time since he's been to Charr, and to be honest he hadn't really paid it much mind on his last visit. Noticing Windshear and Sunder first, Warsong starts to make his way toward the small group of familiars before snapping to attention a few paces after noticing Catechism, although he says nothing for the moment. Artifice thinks about this one a little bit harder. "I'd ask one, then go where he said, and if it wasn't there I would go to the other place." Windshear nods at Warsong and then thinks on his answer. He knows what he would do but this is more a training sesson for Catechism so he remains silent. Catechism sighs and hisses to Warsong, "At ease." She also has to ask, waving her hands in the air, "Wait, wait, if they've both swallowed poison, they clearly don't want to tell me anything, right? So who cares if the one guy usually tells the truth, he's probably lying, too. Or did I poison them as an incentive to make them talk? I mean, maybe I have Fulcrum over there with the antidote." Catechism would totally poison someone for information! Fleet waves a hand absently. "Whatever answer tells me what one question you're asking is," Catechism. He listens to the others, but while he's waiting on an answer, doesn't yet comment. Then he pauses. "Oh, and the Autobots are looking for this thing, too. So while you *can* eventually check both places, if you go to the wrong place first, you risk them getting it." Artifice nods. He is lost in thought and fails to greet Warsong. "Maybe follow the Autobots. He puts his hand on his chin and looks up into the scorched sky. "Tail them, see if they find it, then steal it. Is that right?" Warsong glances between the gathered Cons, and then stands at ease as he is relieved by Catechism. Lifting an eyeridge at Fleet's question, Warsong chortles softly and shakes his head. "I agree with Inquisitor... They would both lie," he offers. "But I suppose in the context of a training exercise... You would have to ask the pair of them what the other one would say. If the answer is Pz-Zazz... Then the liar would tell you that the truth teller would say Monacus, while the truth teller would tell you that the liar would say Monacus. So...then you know the answer is Pz-Zazz. At that point you beat them into submission and make them suffer before death, just in case the poison is the painless kind..." Windshear finally speaks up, "First Id determine what each plant is to each person and by doing that, that could help me determine which one is the liar --" he pauses at Warsongs answer and says nothing more. Catechism assumes this headache means her processors are getting a workout as she tries to come to an answer. She muses aloud, "Okay, so the liar is going to lie, and the stupid truthful one is going to tell the truth. Unless they just both refuse to answer because they're dying and poisoned. But... I like the idea of just stealing it from the Autobots! I mean, the Autobots already know we're looking for it. Why not let them do all the work?" And then Warsong suggests something that makes her head hurt more, and she points out, "But if the liar /knows/ the truthful one is going to give his answer, he could just lie a different way. I mean, he could lie and say it is on Jupiter. And then the truthful guy would say that the liar said it was on Jupiter." Catechism assumes this headache means her processors are getting a workout as she tries to come to an answer. She muses aloud, "Okay, so the liar is going to lie, and the stupid truthful one is going to tell the truth. Unless they just both refuse to answer because they're dying and poisoned. But... I like the idea of just stealing it from the Autobots! I mean, the Autobots already know we're looking for it. Why not let them do all the work?" And then Warsong suggests something that makes her head hurt more, and she points out, "But if the liar /knows/ the truthful one is going to give his answer, he could just lie a different way. I mean, he could lie and say it is on Jupiter. And then the truthful guy would say that the liar said it was on Jupiter." Warsong squints a bit as he listens to Catechism, his own processor starting to hurt. "Uhm... Bah, you're right! This is stupid..." Fleet grins and walks slowly to a bolder, on which he settles. He nods to Catechism and Artifice. "Stealing it from the Autobots is a perfectly acceptable strategy. So is asking one what the other would answer. Either or." Catechism points out, "That relies on the informants knowing that one is supposed to always lie and one is supposed to always tell the truth. Moreover, even if he's lying about what the other guy would say, he's still telling the truth about the location, so... yeah. I'm going with stealing it from the Autobots. They already know we're after it, anyway." Windshear rubs the side of his. This is all making his head hurt now. "Kill them both and just wait for the bots, yea, that works." He muses not too concerned he bombed on that one. If Rampage were here, he'd totally shout out that all they need is Judge Judy for all interrogations and truthfinding. But he's not. "For interrogations, I slowly devour my target and keep them alive while I consume them." A insecticon voice calls out as Blight crawls to them in stinkbug mode. Warsong looks to Artifice, scanning the other mech from head to toe before barking a laugh. "NEWBIE?" he blinks, shaking his head before thrusting it backward to release a harty laugh into the sky. "HAH-HAH-HAH! Ahhhh... RICH! I am Warsong, veteran of MANY great conflicts in this ages old war between the righteous progressives of the Decepticon Empire and the prim conservatives of the Autobot Foolery..." Fleet grins as Artifice uses 'Inquisitor' as Catechism's name. "I... hmmm. There are three remotes in one room. These control the three glowing heat-torture chairs in the adjacent room. Unfortunately, you don't know which remote goes with which chair, and only have time to enter the room once before you must strap your prisoners in place. How do you ensure that you can begin interrogation knowing which remote goes with which chair *before* you get started?" Artifice decides to wait until someone smarter answers and then agree. Catechism slaps her palm to her forehead as Blight missed the part that the informants are dying and they only get one question. She muses, "Or, we could just give the dying informants to the Autobots, who will try to save their lives. Then, while the Autobots waste time, we have more time to look." She blinks a bit as Artifice does indeed assume that iInquisitor is her name. And then Fleet breaks her CPU. "I... what? Who is running this show? Why hasn't Soundwave murdered them for being morons yet? I mean, mixing up the remotes like that..." Fleet pauses a moment and considers Catechism's question. Finally he answers, "Compile." Fleet is probably going to regret that later. Warsong sighs heavily, "Is this a training exercise, or am I just in the wrong place at the wrong time...? I could have sworn someone mentioned something about there being energo-drinks here," he states rather boredly. Processing for a moment, Warsong shrugs. "Who cares?" Catechism pinches the bridge of her nose and groans, waving a hand in the air. "Okay, so let me get this straight. The remotes are outside, and I can't take them inside the room, can I? And I don't have any helpful accomplices? But... oooh! These are heat chairs! So I turn one on outside for a while, then I turn it off. I turn the second one on. I go inside. The chair that is warm but not hot corresponds to remote one. The hot chair is remote two, which is actually on. The cold chair is remote three." She stares at Warsong. Energo-drinks? What? "Someone lied. Probably that informant from earlier." "WHAT!?" Warsong barks. "There are NO drinks at all!?" he excalaims, as his entire chassis begins to rattle under the intense straining of his oh so irritated servos. Seriously, he looks as if he's about to pop a gasket. Artifice smiles broadly. "Oh boy! Inquisitor, you read my mind. That is exactly what I was going to say. Wow! Great minds think alike, huh?" He laughs. "And so do ours!" Windshear folds his arms and just observes everything going on deciding to be a spectater for now. Fleet shakes his head. "No drinks," he tells Warsong, then turns towards Catechism. "That was the answer I had in mind, but I was willing to consider others as well." Then he yawns and stretches. "Were those fiendish enough for you, Inquisitor?" "Never before have I experienced being duped in such a lasercore-wrenching fashion... SOMEONE will pay dearly for this outrage," Warsong mutters to himself, his arms lifting then to fold over his chest as his head slowly shakes from side to side. Grrrr... Catechism partially hopes that Warsong just explodes, because that would be kind of cool. The more practical part of her orders, "Calm down," because she doesn't want to have to order Windshear to collect Warsong's pieces and take them back to base. She paces to exactly face Artifice, and she levels her optics with his, staring at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she whirls, and she faces Fleet, "For now, yes. Though they more seemed to rely on incompetence, rather than fiendery." She sniffs. Fleet gives a shrug. "Often they amount to the same thing," he observes, not realizing that Catechism considers him a fiend. (Really. What's up with that? Just because he was partially rebuilt by the robot devil...) Artifice can't meet Catechism's gaze. He just looks away, pretending to be woolgathering, even though the experession on his face is one of high anxiety. When she turns away, he looks back at Fleet and vents a sigh. "Totally right," he says to Fleet, "You know, usually, I find... that the most stupid mechs are usually the least competent." Catechism rubs her temples some more as Artifice does a Captain Obvious impression. Stupid mechs are often incompetent? Well, /yes/. She wonders what made her head hurt more - her fellow Decepticons or Fleet's riddles. She grumbles, "Fleet, I can't always count on my enemies being raving morons!" Her allies are a different story. Warsong lifts an eyeridge at Catechism's response to Fleet, and a chortle flows from him. "Hmmm, I have a scenario for you!" he offers, grinning broadly as when the scenario involves actual battlefield cunning he's almost always 'game'. "Decepticons!" he snaps, looking to Sunder, Windshear, Blight, Catechism, Artifice, and Fleet... "Say that you have been engaged in combat with an Autobot for some time and you have managed to retrieve sensative information vital to the war effort! You are taking severe damage, of course that is after you have destroyed his partner because...honestly, like they are usually ever a match for us one to one, right? Hah! So, anywho... You have fought well beyond your limit! But if you try to flee...they will catch you and certainly defeat you due to being FASTER. You are in the middle of a crowded city full of humans, skyscrapers, and vehicles... The Autobot knows the city very well, but to you it is alien. How do you escape?" Catechism stares at Warsong, and she states very clearly, "That's stupid. I'm faster than light." No, really, she is. In alternate mode. Outside of an atmosphere. "Now, maybe being slower than /cars/ is a problem for some of you, but really?" She shakes her aching head. Fleet peers at Artifice, then turns to Catechism and smiles. "No, but you can always count on having to compensate for the deficiencies in others, and isn't that what you've had to do in my puzzles?" He looks at Warsong and shrugs. "Unless I had reason to believe Seaspray is around, I would crash into the nearest body of water," he proclaims. It's how he got away from Victory Leo! He pauses. "Actually, even if I knew Seaspray was around. I'm faster than he is underwater." "I will spray the entire city with my chemical, let the acids melt the area and humans the autobots so well love, and fly away and once I relayed the information, I would return to feed." Blight says to the lot of them as he approaches closer. "I'd stay and fight," Artifice says, "I'd be more afraid come back empty-handed than I am of any Autobot! But I would call for backup. Surely, if she's faster than light, Inquisitor here could assist." Windshear doesnt answer Warsongs scenario. He doesnt say a word, instead he looks around a bit from where hes standing. Charr doesnt seem like much thats for sure. Warsong squints at the trio that had decided to answer, addressing them first. "You are damaged! You are no longer faster than light because your FTL drive has been reduced to SLAG!" He stomps a foot. "There is NO body of water nearby, and yu are DAMAGED! There is nothing for you but DESTRUCTION unless you can figure out a new path..." Then for Blight, "That...was a pretty good answer," he notes. "BUT melting the humans only infuriates the Autobot who is powerless to do anything about humans that are already being MELTED! As a result... You are SCRAPPED!" Warsong then turns his attention to Artifice. "That response is acceptable... I applaud you! Hopefully your funeral will be of the open casket type! But really... There is no back up! You are on your OWN!" Catechism wonders if anyone here actually realises that FTL stands for 'faster than light'. She waves a hand and grants, "Oh, so my FTL drive is broken, and there's no water?" A beat. "Okay. Either I just radio the intel back into base, or I go down in the sewers. Because cities have those. And there's usually water in them." And other stuff, true, but well, that is why there are showers. "The old 'endanger the humans while you run away' trick almost always just leads to infuriating Autobots who take it out on you, if not now, the next time around," Fleet observes thoughtfully. "It's gets almost as annoyingly formulaic as when they constantly blow up your energon." The pastel yellow Seeker rubs his chin. "Frankly, I would not get myself in that mess, because I take the time to scout my mission objectives ahead of time. The fool who didn't has proven themselves unfit to survive." Artifice allows himself a half-smile, though he feels simultaneously complimented and chastised. "You forget, it takes a while for the acid to eat through buildings and vehicles, which means humans will still be left alive and the autobots will focus their rescue attempt on them as I leave." Warsong growls, and slams a clawed hand into his face. "Arrrgh... You cannot radio sensative intel back to base. If any Autobot just HAPPENS to be able to intercept the transmission then the information may be rendered completely USELESS..." Wow, Warsong isn't even that smart and he knows that! "Arrrrghhhh... Endangering the hyoomans is different from KILLING them outright," he notes with a snort. "And... No battle plan survives contact with the enemy!" exclaims the Provoker, who then turns his attention to Blight and smiles. "Behold, Decepticons... Who would have thought that the winner of this scenario would be the insecticon? YOU shall be treated to a drink, on me... Or whatever else it is that you like to devour!" Catechism points out, "But the Autobot knows I have the intel. That's why he's trying to kill me. I mean, it's nothing new to him. That, and you haven't made up some ludicrous reason yet /why/ I can't use the sewers. Which I doubt the Autobot would know well, even if he knows the city. Which are full of switchbacks." She wonders what Warsong will say if Blight says he wants to eat Warsong. Fleet snorts. "I accept no scenario where you corral the results into only a single correct outcome," the Seeker proclaims. "Especially one that the Autobots have experienced so often, they're generally rather prepared for it." Also, it gets f'ing old to deal with scene after scene. Like having your energon blown up in raids. "Besides, you haven't told me why I can't just ice the guy up and run away." Artifice sees a bandwagon to jump on and seizes the opportunity. "Yeah," he says, "Ya know, really, no one would ever be in that situation, so... not valid. K? Let's think of another one." He nods condescendingly, but catches himself and starts backpedalling. "Although, there /are/no stupid questions. So... good question, Warsong." "Because you did not present that as an option," Warsong states matter of factly to Fleet with a scoff. "Blight simply offered the best response. You did as well, but only after asking why you 'couldn't' offer it before. Tsk!" Looking to Catechism, Warsong shakes his head, "It is possible that you could use the sewers as an escape route... But, how much water do you think these sewer systems have? How deep is it? How wide are the tunnels? Your option may work... But it also has an incredible chance for backfire!" Then, Warsong's optics narrow upon Artifice. "Hah! It happens more often than you'd think... I have been in that very situation more than once!" Folding his arms over his chest, Warsong grunts. "But fine, go back to your silly riddles then. See if I care!" Really, he just wants a bloody drink. Catechism points out, "So. What if it's a fuelthirsty Autobot who doesn't care about humans? You know, like Grimlock? I think you're screwed, then." Of course, Grimlock usually means the Decepticon in question is screwed. "Unless you can find, say, a trailer that you can fit inside, and you sneak out of the city that way..." "Yes, but Grimlock isn't faster than me," Fleet points out. He pauses. "Sunstreaker, same thing. Is there an Aerialbot with that level of fuel-thirst?" He pauses again. "Ah, Victory Leo. Though I got away from him doing the water thing." Catechism reminds, "Remember, Fleet, your engine is busted, so Grimlock is faster." She snorts. Sunder must've dozed off! The Sweep snaps awake. "Hmmm?" he mumbles. "Well, Grimlock is... Grimlock," Warsong replies, moving a clawed fingertip to scratch the back of his head. "And yes, you could find an alternate method of leaving the city, like disguising yourself with parts of a nearby vehicle! ...Just like those blasted Autobots disguised themselves as Seekers when they infiltrated Crystal City... Blasted Bots.." he chortles, actually finding some humor in the whole idea. "Does this mean I get to devour you, Warsong" Blight asks as he scurries forth and chuckles. "Here is a possible scenario. The autobots have captured a city and has defended it. after many attacks, they have left the city because it has proven too much effort to keep defended, but to keep us from completely gaining it, has left traps ranging from simple idiotic pit traps to complex sonic bursts which reduces metal to the strength of glass. Command has given you charge of securing this building and if you lose too much resources trying to gain it, you will be executed by Galvatron for the trouble you have caused. How would you complete this objective?" "If even my antigravs work, I'm still faster than Grimlock," Fleet notes, giving a faint nod of his head. "And if they don't work, I just find the nearest museum, transform into alternate mode, and pretend to be a piece of modern art until the Autobots go away." He glances around a moment, then adds, "You'd be surprised how well that works." "Bring as many human slaves as you can find, and release them into the city vowing that if they can pass through before being rounded up by the slavers then they will have earned their freedom and may simply go," Warsong offers to Blight, still smirking at the previous comment made by the Insecticon. Snapping his fingers, Warsong points a clawed finger aside to Fleet. "Also correct!" he barks before looking back to Blight. "Let the slaves trip most of the traps for you while they scurry to gain their freedom, and what they miss...well, it won't destroy enough of your reserves to matter very much!" Catechism thinks about the Mexico situation and how it's full of traps. She looks over at Fleet, and she smirks. She hikes a thumb back at him and says, "I'd send him in. He lived on a whole planet that was trying to murder him for a few years. Traps are nothing, right?" Stinkbug says, "The traps are designed by Autobots, which means while dangerous to us, they will ensure that most of the traps cant be tripped by humans." Warsong stomps a foot, "Bah!" With a snort, he cants his head to the side and ponders for another moment. "Fine, then you give the humans vehicles to drive through the city instead of sending them on foot. It will not only increase their weight and their likeness to Decepticons, but also cut down on the amount of time the entire scenario will take to complete." "Traps," Sunder says, "Ahhh, that was Deadfall's specialty. A pity he is no longer with us." Catechism points out, "Vehicles are worth a lot. We could use them as resources. Why waste them?" "Because it is preferrable to wasting reserves," Warsong replies confidently as he lifts his chin in all manner of regal fashion. Fleet brushes a bit of plains dust off his left arm and observes absently, "To be frank, should the Autobots discover you were behind such a plot, you wouldn't last much longer than you would have if Galvatron had just executed you." He looks up. "If we have so many cars about, why can't they be fitted with remotes?" Stinkbug says, "Sending someone who is experienced on how traps is set is wise, however, this is a city. Sending in a single person takes too long, and sending him with a team increases the likelihood of the traps being set." Stinkbug says, "Sending humans with vehicles would mean trusting them with ways to repair such vehicles and could use such vehicles against us, after all, even a human car can make an effective missile if the human is suicidal." Artifice hooks a thumb at Blight. "He's got a point," he says, "If we know the traps are set, we could just abandon the city al together. Or bomb it, blow it up, put that right in the Autobot's faces. What's the tactical advantage of Ayotzinco?" Warsong chortles and shrugs, "That is right... IF they knew about it. But the Autobots abandoned the city... Also, most slaves tend to take the option of flight ahead of attempting to ram ground-based vehicles into anti-grav fitted Decepticons. Although the ace pilot's idea is a good one also... The vehicle idea, with remotes added instead of human pilots would make an effective sweep." "It would also reduce the chance that humans could use the vehicles as a weapon against us, as Blight said," Fleet points out about the remotes. "If you're setting humans to a task where there's a good chance they will be eliminated anyway... well, desperation oft breeds surprising behavior." "That is why you do not let them know that the city is boobytrapped," Warsong offers. "As you mentioned, their awareness of the traps would have dire consequences." Maybe it was the talk of ramming cars or terrified humans, perhaps both but a summoning of sorts seems to have been initiated as a careening madman drives into view. Cackling to himself as he lives up to his name Wildrider arrives, just why he's on Charr is anyone's guess but then again who wants to try and fathom his somewhat erratic thought processes? Catechism just shakes her head, as Warsong seem to have a one track mind, and that track is a track where Snidely Whiplash has tied Nell Fenwick to the railroad track. She transforms, taking wing, and she lifts off into the barren skies of Charr. Warsong hmms softly, starting to wonder more and more about what the Insecticon himself and originator of the scenario would do under the circumstances, and peers at Blight, "What would YOU do, Blight..?" As the question leaves him, 'Song suddenly glances toward Wildrider. Windshear gets the impression hes being looked at. He looks at Warsong. "What?" "Good ideas." Blight says then turns an attaenae which was properly repaired to Warsong. "I would have the insecticons create clones like we can from raw materials, and send those clones into the city. If the clones trigger the traps, There will be less loss then actual cybertronians and vehicle losses." Artifice guesses that no one is going to answer his question. He figures it must have been a stupid question anyway. As Wildrider approaches, he considers stick around and trying to make another play to get himself noticed, but he figures it would draw more attention if he were seen leaving with Catechism. "It's been real, guys, but I've gotta rap with Inquisitor bout something. So, check you later." He gives a weak peace sign - using the wrong fingers - and then pretends to activate his radio. "Yeah, I'm coming. Be right there." He looks around with a shrug. "That was her. She's totally pissed. All right, peace out." Category:Logs Category:2030 Category:Non-TP